Finding Him (Covet 2)

Noah.

I wondered if this Noah realized how lucky he was. To have a woman cry out to him even in her weakest moments, in her sleep, to need him so desperately that she couldn’t stop saying his name.

Jealousy hit me hard and fast because I knew my name would never fall from a woman’s lips like that.

I was either a checkbook or a business ally. Women wanted me for my money, my power, and my influence.

Finding someone normal only happened once in a lifetime, and look how that had turned out.

“Mmmmm . . .” She lifted her head and then reached her bandaged hands around my neck. “I missed you . . .”

I froze. Dear God, let her wake up.

She moaned again. “Feels so good, right?”

Fuck.

I clenched my jaw as she moved on my lap and then straddled me. Not how I planned on spending my morning. “Princess, you’re dreaming . . .”

“It’s such a good dream,” she argued in a sultry, sleep-filled voice.

My body was on fire.

Shit.

Her forehead touched mine, I could almost taste her, could feel the warmth of her breath on my face.

One touch.

Nobody would know.

We were snowed in.

I was justifying one graze of her lips.

I was going insane.

I muttered a curse and pulled away just as her mouth came crashing down onto mine.

And then I forgot everything.

Everything.

And kissed her back.

Her lips were searing hot, her body molded against mine like it was made for me, and when her tongue slid into my mouth, I thought I was going to die on the spot.

She tasted so fucking good.

So good.

“Mmm . . .” She pulled back. “Noah . . .”

I jerked away.

Lucky bastard.

She thought I was him.

That wasn’t cheating.

It was just unfortunate.

“Hey.” I shook her by the shoulders a bit. “You were dreaming again.”

Her eyes opened so fast that you’d think I told her we had company, and then she stared at my mouth.

Was it red from her kiss?

Swollen?

“See something you like?” I joked.

She rolled her eyes and shoved at my chest. “Sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“Inconvenience. And you don’t seem like the sort of guy who likes to be inconvenienced. No, you’re a planner and I’m ruining your plans.”

“Technically, I ruined yours first,” I argued and then reached for my phone. “Looks like we still don’t have cell service. Do you feel well enough to get dressed and eat something?”

She nodded, her eyes uncertain even as she said, “I think so.”

“Take it easy, alright?” I slowly unraveled us and tried like hell not to look at her breasts as I helped her stand.

She slumped against me, body weak. I steadied her and waited, but she just swayed in my arms again.

“Food,” I repeated. “You need food. Let’s keep you wrapped up, try that first, and then we can see about a shower, okay?”

“I’m not dirty.”

My lips twitched. “I didn’t say you were, I just thought it might make you feel more like yourself.”

Her face changed as she looked away. “Yeah, I haven’t felt like myself in a while, I doubt a shower’s going to help.”

“You never know,” I whispered as shadows danced across her face, twirling around secrets I knew she’d never tell a stranger, least of all one like me.

“Pancakes.” She changed the subject. “Let’s make pancakes. I have enough ingredients and it should warm us up.”

“You stay, I’ll make the pancakes.” I set her back down in front of the fire, forgetting I was naked as I stood. She watched, and my body found great pleasure in being seen. “Ignore . . .” I choked on my next few words as my body acted violently against my brain, showing her exactly what I thought about her smooth skin. “That.”

She jerked her head away. “Consider it ignored.”

“Huh, that easy?”

“Searching for compliments?” She smiled but didn’t look at me.

“Nah, I’ve lived a life swimming through a sea of compliments, they kind of fall on deaf ears after a while.”

She tilted her head up at me. “I know what you mean.”

“Does that mean you’re going to let me know what your name is?”

She sighed and then very quietly said, “Keaton Westbrook.”

I froze.

Stared.

Stared a bit harder.

And then felt like the biggest ass on the planet.

No, worse than that.

The hair that grows on the ass.

“Keaton Westbrook,” I repeated.

“The one and only.”

“And Noah,” I finished, feeling like an even bigger fool.

“Normal Noah.” Her eyes filled with tears. It was what the press had dubbed her boyfriend. People were obsessed with their story until a bigger one hit—mine.

I should have recognized her the moment I saw her, and then I should have run like hell in the opposite direction.

Everyone knew about her and Normal Noah.

I knew it, and I had been in a coma.

Their love story was front-page news because of her own social media following along with the fact that her parents were celebrities in their own right.